


The Line of Durin

by Lakritzwolf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: BotFA Fix-It, Fix-It, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another wee attempt of a BotfA Fix-it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Line of Durin

“This one dies first!”

Staring at Azog, and Fili in his grip, in terror, no one noticed the shadow sweeping past overhead. 

“Run!”

The grin on Azog’s face widened as he drew his arm backwards, savouring every moment as he watched their helpless faces. 

But just as he was about to impale the young dwarf prince on his black and filthy blade, the shadow swooped down with a high-pitched shriek, and with a beat of mighty wings and extended talons, the eagle pushed both Azog and Fili over the edge of the cliff. 

And not a heartbeat later another eagle, coming from the opposite direction, closed his talons around the falling dwarf with gentle precision while Azog’s body hit the cold, snow-covered flagstones below. 

Flying as low to the ground as possible the eagle now dropped the young prince; shocked, wounded, battered, but still alive. He even managed to land on his feet when the eagle released him. 

Thorin dropped his blade and instantly pulled him into a fierce embrace.

“Maha’s mercy... Fili, my lad, I thought I’d lost you.”  
Fili rested his forehead against his uncle’s. “I swear I could already hear the gates of Mahal’s Halls opening for me,” Fili gave back, voice trembling.

“Fili!”

Thorin and Fili stepped apart as Kili came running over, face wild and hair flying and Fili could only open his arms and fight for balance as his brother threw himself into his arms. Thorin, and Dwalin as well, now stepped forward again and all three enveloped Fili in a rib-cracking, dwarfish hug.

“Uhm.” Bilbo said beside them, his smile turning into a frown. “I think you have some unfinished business yet.”

The four dwarves parted and followed Bilbo’s gaze to where Azog was lying; he was just beginning to stir again. After picking up his sword, Thorin slowly walked towards his arch enemy, blade hefted in his hands, followed by Dwalin and the two young princes. The grizzled old warrior took a step ahead and forced the pale orc, still dazed from the fall, onto his knees.

Thorin had reached Azog now as well but as he lifted the blade, he suddenly narrowed his eyes before he lowered Orcrist again and took a step back.

“Fili,” he said, voice rough.  
“Yes, uncle?” Fili stepped beside him.  
“You are the living proof that the Line of Durin will not be broken. We have prevailed, and we will prevail.” He held out Orcrist to his nephew.

Slowly, and with a grave face, Fili took the offered blade and with slow and measured steps, he walked towards the pale orc who lifted his head and opened his eyes.

“The Line of Durin shall not be broken,” Fili said as he lifted the blade. “ _Ishmikhi damâm Durinul!_ ” 

He swung Orcrist in a mighty arc and severed Azog’s head cleanly from his body. 

As Fili was about to hand Thorin the blade back, hilt first, Thorin smiled gently and shook his head. “It is yours now, my prince.”  
Fili inclined his head. “ _Akhman, Thanu men._ ”

Thorin looked around, and then picked up the blade of an orc who had fallen nearby. He hefted the crude, unfamiliar blade in his hand and weighed it before looking at his nephews and friend again. 

“Let us not stand idly by while dwarven blood is still being spilled.” 

Fili, Kili and Dwalin readied their weapons with equally grim and determined expressions.

“Follow me,” Thorin said, and together, they made their way down from Ravenhill towards the battle ground. 

“DU BEKAR!”

As the four of them had reached the battle grounds screaming the ancient war cry at the top of their lungs, the dwarves once again rallied to their King and together, they cut through the enemy lines like a scythe through dry and brittle grass.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Ishmikhi damâm Durinul!_ : Hail Durin's Blood  
>  _Akhman, Thanu men._ : Thank you, my King


End file.
